


Not What It Seems in the Land of Dreams

by halfsweet



Series: Parenthood AU [7]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Family, Family Feels, M/M, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 15:39:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsweet/pseuds/halfsweet
Summary: Mama Bear hasn’t come out of his room, hasn’t smiled, and hasn’t played with him for days.Is something wrong with Mama Bear?





	Not What It Seems in the Land of Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is going to be a little different since it's from David's pov :))
> 
> (unedited)

A shrill cry wakes him up from his sleep. He rolls over to the other side, hoping to get back to sleep, but the cry continues to echo in his room. Annoyed at the noise, he sits up and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

He looks around the room until he spots a small silhouette crying at the corner of the room. Curious, he climbs down and out of his crib carefully and approaches the figure.

A baby?

He blinks when the baby doesn’t stop crying. “Hey, are you okay?”

When the baby continues to cry, he trots back to his crib and grabs Mr Paddyton. Mr Paddyton always gets him to stop crying and and start smiling. Then, he walks back to the baby and places Mr Paddyton down beside the baby. “There.”

But the baby is still crying.

He frowns, confused. Is the baby hurt? Oh! Maybe Doctor Phin can help!

He runs to get Doctor Phin—a blue dolphin plush toy—on the small chair that Uncle Andy built for him and sets it down next to Mr Paddyton. Nothing can beat the combined powers of Mr Paddyton and Doctor Phin!

His face drops when the baby cries again—louder, if possible. This is hard. Even Mr Paddyton and Doctor Phin can’t make the baby stop crying.

Wait a minute.

He kneels down and pulls the baby towards him in an attempt to carry him. Mama Bear always does it to him whenever he starts crying. Mama Bear would carry him and walk around and sing to him until he stops crying.

As soon as he lifts the baby up, he stumbles backwards and falls on his bottom, grunting. “You’re heavy.”

He lets go of the baby, pondering. What else can he do? “Want me to get Mama Bear?”

The baby starts to wail, the voice piercing through the silent air that he has to cover his ears. Why is the baby crying? Is he lost? “Where’s your Daddy?”

The baby wails louder this time, and there’s a slam coming from outside, followed by a scream. He runs to the door and sees three figures in the living room— Mama Bear, Daddy, and Uncle Pete.

Why is Uncle Pete here? Is he trying to steal Mama Bear?

He scowls, about to dash over to Mama Bear to protect him, but pauses when Mama Bear curls on the floor and groans.

_“Patrick!”_

_“Get him to the hospital now. I’ll watch David.”_

Daddy wraps an arm around Mama Bear and pulls him up, then carries him outside. Uncle Pete looks on with a worried expression on his face. That’s weird. Uncle Pete is always silly and smiling. Why does Uncle Pete look serious now?

His small fingers grab onto the doorframe.

And why did Uncle Pete tell Daddy to bring Mama Bear to the hospital? Is Mama Bear hurt? What happened to Mama Bear? Is Mama Bear okay?

But then, Daddy’s there, and he always says everything’s going to be okay, so Mama Bear is probably fine. He trusts Daddy. Daddy never lies to him, and Daddy always makes everything better.

He walks back into his room and goes to the corner where the baby is, but no one’s there. He blinks before shrugging, going back to settle in his crib.

Maybe the baby already went back home.

-

He wakes up to the smell of pancakes wafting into his room. He climbs down his crib in excitement with thought of pancakes in his mind. He wonders what shape they will be this time. Mama Bear made stars yesterday, and before that, Daddy made smiley faces.

He pauses on his way to the kitchen. What if it’s a _puppy?_

Growing more enthusiastic, he dashes to the kitchen, expecting to see either Mama Bear or Daddy standing and making pancakes.

But he sees neither. Only Uncle Pete.

He walks slowly to Uncle Pete and tugs at Uncle Pete’s pants. Uncle Pete looks down and smiles, picking him up and holding him as he continues to cook the pancakes. “Morning, kid.”

His face morphs into a scowl when he looks at what’s on the pan. The pancakes are just boring ugly rounds. Uncle Pete is bad at making pancakes.

He looks around the kitchen. “Where’s Mama Bear?”

“He’s… out.”

“Where?”

“Making the sun rise.”

His head snaps up as his jaw hangs open. Mama Bear makes the sun rise? Mama Bear is so cool! Maybe he can ask Mama Bear to make the sun rise late so Mama Bear doesn’t have to go to work early.

The front door clicks, and he pulls at Uncle Pete’s shirt to get his attention. “The door! Uncle Pete, the door!”

Uncle Pete turns off the stove and walks out the kitchen, standing under the archway. He squirms until Uncle Pete puts him down, and his eyes light up when two figures enter.

“Mama Bear!” He cheers and runs up to Mama Bear. Mama Bear’s back! “You’re back!”

He raises both his arms, waiting for Mama Bear to pick him up like usual. But Mama Bear doesn’t; Daddy is the one who picks him up instead.

He pouts. He wants Mama Bear.

He moves in Daddy’s arms and reaches for Mama Bear, but Daddy pulls him back. “Go to bed and try to get some sleep, okay?”

Mama Bear gives a weak nod and walks away. Mama Bear doesn’t even look back. Mama Bear doesn’t even look at _him._

He lets out a whine as he tugs at Daddy’s hair. “Daddy, I wanna go with Mama Bear.”

Daddy kisses his head and puts him down on the floor. “Your Mama Bear’s tired. Let him sleep, okay?”

He makes an unhappy high-pitched cry. But he wants to be with Mama Bear...

Then, Uncle Pete walks up to them. “How’s the…?”

Daddy shakes his head.

“Brendon…” Uncle Pete pulls Daddy into a hug, to which Daddy returns back. “I’m so sorry.”

He blinks, looking back and forth between them in bewilderment. Why is Uncle Pete sorry? And why is Uncle Pete hugging Daddy? Uncle Pete never hugs Daddy; he always ruffles Daddy’s hair like he always does to him.

Is Daddy sad?

He walks over to both of them and wraps his small arms around Daddy’s legs. He’s not tall enough to reach Daddy, but hopefully this will do.

-

Mama Bear has been sleeping for a whole day now. Mama Bear doesn’t usually sleep this long. Come to think of it, Mama Bear also didn’t go to work today. Mama Bear never skips work.

He stares worriedly in the direction of Mama Bear’s room as he clutches Doctor Phin to his chest. When Daddy comes out, he makes a sprint towards him and holds up Doctor Phin to Daddy.

“What’s this for?” Daddy takes Doctor Phin and turns it over in his hand in wonder.

“Give Mama Bear.” When Daddy doesn’t move, he pushes Daddy’s legs. What is Daddy waiting for? An order? “ _Now,_ Daddy.”

Daddy lifts an eyebrow, but obeys nonetheless as he walks back into Mama Bear’s room. He waits at his spot for a few seconds until Daddy comes back out and scoops him up into his arms, carrying him back into his room.

“Did you give Mama Bear?”

“Yeah.” Daddy kisses the side of his head. “He’s sleeping, but I’m sure he appreciates it.”

“Is Mama Bear tired?”

Daddy hums. “He is, which is why he needs a lot of sleep.”

Huh. Mama Bear must be _really_ tired if he needs _a lot_ of sleep.

“Daddy?” He calls after Daddy has tucked him in his bed. “Can you sing a song?”

Daddy smiles and strokes his head once before leaning down to kiss the top of his head and kneeling by the crib. “Of course, Little Bear. What song?”

“The one Mama Bear always sings to me.”

He closes his eyes as Daddy starts to croon softly. It’s not the same like how Mama Bear sings it, but it still makes him feel safe.

Then, his eyes snap open at the sound of cheery tittering. He glares at the corner of the room, watching the baby crawl eagerly towards Daddy with a beam on his face. Why can’t the baby go to his own Daddy?

But all his thoughts disappear from his mind when Daddy runs his fingers through his hair. He snuggles deeper into his blanket and lets Daddy’s voice lulls him to sleep.

_Honey is for bees, silly bear,_

_Besides there’s jelly beans everywhere..._

-

It’s been a few days since Mama Bear got back from making the sun rise. Mama Bear hasn’t come out of his room since then, not even once. Mama Bear also hasn’t held him and played with him.

He huffs out a sigh and hugs Mr Paddyton. He misses Mama Bear. He wants to see Mama Bear. He wants Mama Bear to hold him and play with him and sing to him and make him awesome pancakes and sleep beside him.

Well, it doesn’t hurt to…

He climbs out of his crib—Daddy just put him to bed half an hour ago, but he can’t sleep unless he sees Mama Bear—and peeks his head from the doorframe, to which he perks up when the door to Mama Bear’s room is open. Making sure that no one is around, he trots over to the direction and a smile crosses his face when he sees Mama Bear sleeping alone on the bed.

This is his chance! He can sleep with Mama Bear!

Just as he’s about to enter the room, he lets out a confused whine when he doesn’t feel the floor under his feet. He looks down, seeing the strong and colourful arm that always carries him around wrapped around him. “Daddy,” he struggles to be let go, “Mama Bear.”

Daddy shushes him and carries him out of the room, and he places his chin on Daddy’s shoulder, staring at Mama Bear’s back as they get even further away. He hopes Mama Bear will turn around and see him and bring him back into the room so they can sleep together.

Mama Bear always hears and knows what he wants—and he wants Mama Bear—so Mama Bear surely will wake up right now.

In a second.

Any second now.

His throat produces a soft whine. “Mama Bear…”

Daddy shushes again, but quietly this time. “Mama Bear’s sleeping. You wouldn’t want to wake him up, would you?”

“No…” He shakes his head, and his body droops when Mama Bear is completely out of his sight. He wants to sleep with Mama Bear…

“Then let him sleep, okay?

A dejected expression is still plastered on his face as Daddy settles him back in the crib. He looks up at Daddy when Sir Win—a penguin plush—is placed snugly between his arms. “Daddy, is Mama Bear sick?”

Daddy looks down at him and smiles. But why does Daddy look sad?

“Yeah.” Daddy answers as he strokes his head. He loves it when Daddy does it; he can see the pretty shapes and colours on Daddy’s arm up close. “Let’s give him some time to rest, okay?”

He nods. He’s not happy about it, but if Daddy says so, then he’ll listen to Daddy. Daddy knows everything.

“Daddy?”

“What is it, Little Bear?”

“Is Mama Bear gonna be okay?”

Daddy just smiles. “Good night, Little Bear. I love you.”

He watches as Daddy leaves out the door and the ray of light seeping in, quietly waiting inside his crib until Daddy comes back. When it’s clear that Daddy doesn’t, he makes a low sound at the back of his throat.

Daddy hasn’t answered his question.

A loud cry catches his attention, and he looks at the corner of the room, seeing the baby again. Grabbing Mr Paddyton from the edge of the crib, he carefully climbs down and places it next to the baby. “There.”

A victorious grin splits his face when the baby stops crying and begins reaching for Mr Paddyton.

It works! See? Uncle Pete is wrong! Mr Paddyton _does_ have superpowers! Mr Paddyton makes a person happy!

“You want a cookie?”

The baby shakes his head.

“You’re weird.” He comments. Who doesn’t want a cookie? “It’s my sleepy time, so no crying, okay?”

The baby makes a gurgle sound before giggling as he hugs Mr Paddyton.

“And don’t get Mr Paddyton dirty.”

He turns around to go back to his crib, but curiosity makes him stay at the spot where he’s standing. “Where’s your Daddy?”

When the baby doesn’t answer, he continues. “Do you miss your Daddy?”

The baby nods slowly, his eyes downcast.

“What about your Mama Bear? Do you miss your Mama Bear?”

The baby nods again; this time, he hugs Mr Paddyton tight and starts to cry for the second time that night.

A wave of sadness washes over him at the sight of the tears in the baby’s eyes and the sound of his soft hiccups; they barely know each other, but he somehow feels connected to the baby. Sighing, he wraps his arms around the baby— just like how Mama Bear and Daddy always do when he’s sad.

“I miss my Mama Bear too. But my Mama Bear always says he loves me, so your Mama Bear loves you too, okay?”

The baby looks up at him, sniffling.

He smiles at the baby. Maybe the baby isn’t so annoying after all— when he’s not crying, that is. “I promise.”

-

Daddy said Mama Bear is sick, even though he already gave Mama Bear Doctor Phin. But how can that be? Doctor Phin _always_ make him healthy again whenever he’s sick.

Wait a second.

Oh! He knows what he’s missing!

He goes over to the shelf in his room and tugs at the lowest drawer until it opens. He distinctly remembers Mama Bear placing a wet cloth on his forehead when he was sick. So if he does the same to Mama Bear, maybe Mama Bear can become healthy faster and Mama Bear can play and hug him again!

Now, where did Mama Bear put the towel?

He tosses all the undies and pants over his shoulder until he reaches the bottom of the drawer. Nope. No towel.

He pushes the drawer close and opens the one above it. He scavenges through it, throwing everything aside and behind him until the drawer is cleared out. Still no towel. He stands on his toes to reach for the another drawer above, pouting when his fingers barely graze the handle.

Sighing, he looks at the scattered clothes on the floor. Can he use his undie as a towel?

He picks one up and places it on top of his head. No, too small. He throws it away and picks up a pair of pants, dropping it on his head like before. The legs of the pants fall right in front of his eyes, dangling.

Too long.

He tosses it aside and picks up a shirt next, scrutinizing it. A shirt works as well as a towel, right?

“ _What_ did you do?”

He spins around at the voice, seeing Uncle Pete gaping by the door. “Uncle Pete!”

Uncle Pete has his fingers in his hair, pulling at it as he scans the room. “Did a hurricane come through here? Oh God, if Brendon sees this, he’s going to _kill_ me.”

Uncle Pete is so dramatic.

He runs to Uncle Pete and holds up the shirt in his hand. He can’t reach the sink by himself, so he’s gonna need Uncle Pete to help him, whether he likes it or not. “Wet.”

Uncle Pete blinks and grabs the shirt. “It’s dry.”

“Wet.”

“Dry.”

“Wet.”

Uncle Pete stares at him, then to the shirt, then back at him, then to the shirt again before his eyes light up. “Oh! You want me to wet it?”

He nods eagerly. Uncle Pete understands him! Uncle Pete’s not stupid!

He trails behind Uncle Pete as Uncle Pete heads to the bathroom and opens the tap, holding the shirt under the running water. He tugs at Uncle Pete’s pants to tell him to hurry up as Uncle Pete squeezes the excess water from the shirt. As soon as Uncle Pete hands him the wet shirt, he dashes off to Mama Bear’s room, ignoring Uncle Pete’s shouts.

There’s nothing blocking the entrance to Mama Bear’s room, and the smile on his face widens. He can see Mama Bear again! And no one can stop him!

He keeps running until he enters the room. Upon seeing Mama Bear sleeping on his side, he tiptoes to the bed to make sure he doesn’t wake Mama Bear up. His chest heaves out a relieved sigh when Mama Bear is still deep in his sleep. Then, he gingerly places the wet shirt on top of Mama Bear’s head.

Wait, is he supposed to place it on his forehead? Or on his face?

He stands on his toes again and pulls the wet shirt to cover Mama Bear’s forehead, but before he can tuck it neatly into place, he is lifted up and above.

“Uncle Pete!” He whines and swings his legs so Uncle Pete will put him back down. Great. Uncle Pete just ruined everything!

“I thought I told you not to—” Uncle Pete pauses when upon seeing Mama Bear, and Uncle Pete slowly lowers him down. He turns around to look at Uncle Pete, confused. He becomes even more confused when Uncle Pete’s face softens, and there’s also a familiar look present in Uncle Pete’s eyes.

It’s the one he always sees whenever Daddy looks at Mama Bear.

“Your Mama Bear is really lucky to have you, kid.” Uncle Pete murmurs as he lifts him back up to set him down on his hip, then bends down to position the wet shirt properly on Mama Bear’s forehead.

He smiles, smug and proud. Of course Mama Bear is lucky to have him! He’s Mama Bear’s Little Bear!

-

Even though he did get to see Mama Bear earlier that day, it’s still not enough for him. He’s been missing Mama Bear _terribly_ , and he wants Mama Bear to put him to bed and sing him to sleep like before.

But Daddy said Mama Bear is sleeping, so Daddy’s going to take over Mama Bear’s job until Mama Bear wakes up.

It’s okay, though, because Daddy is getting better at singing the song.

After Daddy has placed him inside his crib, Daddy glances around the room and raises an eyebrow. “Why are your toys over there?”

“The baby.” He scowls as he looks to the chair where Mr Paddyton and Batman are sitting surrounding the baby—who is crying still. Why is he crying again? _So annoying._ “He wouldn’t stop crying, so I let Mr Paddyton and Batman sit there so he stops crying.”

“There’s no one there, David.”

“There is!” He stands up inside his crib, wobbling in the progress and quickly hangs on to the bar to balance himself, and points to the chair, where the baby is flailing his arms around. “See? He’s crying again!”

He keeps a close look at Daddy’s face when Daddy looks at the chair, and Daddy’s face seems confused at first, then a mixture of surprise and… sad. Why is Daddy sad again? “There’s no one else in this room, Little Bear. Good night.”

“But Daddy! You have to help him! He won’t stop crying!”

As if on cue, the baby wails; his voice glass-shatteringly loud and driving him crazy.

“There’s no b—” Daddy clears his throat. “There’s no one else in this room, David. Go to sleep, okay?”

“But Daddy!” He shakes the railings on his crib to show that he’s serious. “He lost his Mama Bear and Daddy.”

Daddy takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “David, I promise there’s no—”

“There is! He’s right there!” He points furiously to the corner—the chair where the baby always sits on, where he _currently is._ The baby is right in front of his eyes! Crying! How can Daddy _not_ see the baby?

Daddy walks over to the wall and switches on the light, then scans the room before turning to him. “See? There’s no one but us. Now please go to sleep?”

He tugs at his hair out of frustration. “Daddy, he’s _there!_ He’s crying again!”

“It’s just your imagination.”

Why doesn’t Daddy believe him?

Angry that Daddy doesn’t believe him, he opens his mouth and screams. Who cares if it’s already late? He’s just so mad! He never lies to Daddy!

The baby then starts to scream with him, and he screams even louder. “The baby is _right_ there and he keeps crying and my ears hurt! Get him to stop!”

“I promise there’s no—” Daddy pauses, “—there’s no baby. Here, I’ll sleep with you tonight. What do you say?”

Right when Daddy offers to sleep in the room with him, the baby stops crying.

He rubs his eyes, quieting down as well when he notices the slight break in Daddy’s voice. “Daddy, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Little Bear.” Daddy lifts him from the crib, and he wraps his arms around Daddy’s neck. After Daddy switches off the light, Daddy starts to bounce him lightly, making soft, hushing sound.

His eyelids start to feel heavy at the motion and the gentle sound, and he rests his head on Daddy’s shoulder as sleep begins to pull at him.

“Hey, Little Bear,” Daddy whispers just as he’s on the verge of sleeping, “what— what does the baby look like?”

“A boy.” He mumbles as his eyes begin to droop shut from the feeling of Daddy’s soothing hand caressing his back. Daddy always makes him feel safe. “Hair like Mama Bear.”

“Did he say anything?”

“Cries a lot. But he always stops when Daddy’s here.” He shifts in Daddy’s arms to get into a more comfortable position, then lets out a contented sigh.

“He miss his Mama Bear,” he continues before yawning, head already lolling on Daddy’s cosy shoulder, “Daddy find his Mama Bear, okay?”

His ears pick up the sound of Daddy sniffling. Is Daddy having a cold? That’s fine; he’s gonna ask Uncle Pete to make soup for Daddy when Uncle Pete comes in the morning. For now, he just wants to sleep.

He cracks one eye open when there’s a shuffle on the floor. He lazily glances down and sees the baby settling by Daddy’s feet. He closes his eye and snuggles closer to Daddy.

He’s too sleepy in Daddy’s arms to tell the baby to go away, so he’ll share his Daddy with the baby just this _one_ time.

-

“Aunt Vicky!” He beams when she walks in through the door. He loves it when Aunt Vicky comes to visit. Aunt Vicky always brings him cookies!

“Hey, little dude.” Aunt Vicky smiles and picks him up, carrying him to the kitchen, then pulls out a container from her bag. “Guess what I made?”

His eyes go wide when a _very_ familiar scent wafts out. “Cookies! You made cookies!”

“And look at what’s on top of it.” Aunt Vicky opens the lid of the container, and he lets out a mixture of a gasp and squeal.

“Chocolate chip! Chocolate chip cookies!”

Aunt Vicky takes one out from the container and hands it to him. He reaches for it with grabby hands and takes a good, long sniff. Aunt Vicky always makes the best chocolate chip cookies.

“Where’s your Mama Bear?”

He nibbles on the cookie, savouring the chocolatey taste. “Daddy doesn't let anyone see Mama Bear.”

“David, it's fine.” He looks up upon hearing Daddy’s voice, and then makes a noise at the back of his throat so Daddy will take him. After Daddy has him in his arms, Daddy turns to Aunt Vicky. “Go ahead. He's in the bedroom.”

Aunt Vicky frowns. “You look tired. Did you get enough sleep?”

Daddy’s tired? How can Aunt Vicky tell if Daddy’s tired?

He leans back and takes a good look at Daddy’s face. Daddy’s got sharp hair on his face—which is weird because Daddy’s face is always smooth—and the area under Daddy’s eyes are dark. He blinks. Is that how Aunt Vicky knows? And why is Daddy tired?

“Yeah, just got a lot of things to take care of.” Daddy sighs, then looks at the clock on the wall. “I need to get to work in an hour.”

“Right. I’ll make it fast. Do you want me to watch over David while you’re gone?”

Daddy shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. Pete’s coming. He’s been taking care of everything in here while I’m at work.”

He quickly bites off the last of the cookie in his hand as Aunt Vicky makes her way to Mama Bear’s room. “Why does Aunt Vicky get to see Mama Bear?” He whines and tugs at Daddy’s disheveled hair. “I wanna see Mama Bear too.”

Daddy winces and pries his hand off of his hair.“That’s because Aunt Vicky is a doctor.”

So, if he becomes a doctor, does that mean he can see Mama Bear?

“I wanna be a doctor.”

Daddy chuckles and strokes his head. “Sure. But you need to study hard so you can become one, okay?”

He nods, full of resolution now that he knows a sure way to see Mama Bear. He doesn’t know what study is, but if Daddy says he needs to study to become a doctor, then he’s gonna study. That way, whenever Mama Bear is sick, Daddy can’t keep him out of Mama Bear’s room anymore.

Aunt Vicky doesn’t take too long in Mama Bear’s room. She comes out a few minutes later, and Daddy’s face turns serious. “How is he?”

“He just needs more rest. Make sure he eats and gets out of bed, even for a walk. Get him some fresh air and a little sunlight.”

Daddy nods. “Is there anything else?”

“It’s all up to him now.” Aunt Vicky murmurs as she stares in the direction of Mama Bear’s room. He turns around to look, too. What is up to Mama Bear?

“Just be there for him and be patient, that’s all I can say. He needs a lot of support, whether he says he wants it or not.” Aunt Vicky continues as they walk to the front door. “Call me if there’s anything, alright?”

Just before Aunt Vicky opens the door, she turns around to face Daddy, and her voice becomes quieter and softer. “I’m really sorry for the loss, Brendon. I did everything I could, but—”

“Vicky, it’s fine.” Daddy smiles, but he doesn’t look happy. Daddy looks sad and tired. Even Aunt Vicky looks sad. Why is everyone sad? “Thank you.”

“Tell Patrick it’s not his fault. He’s going to think that it is.”

Not Mama Bear’s fault? What did Mama Bear do? Is someone blaming Mama Bear for something Mama Bear didn’t do?

He puffs his cheeks. How dare someone treat his Mama Bear like that. When Christmas comes, he’s gonna ask Santa to not give any presents to anyone who hurts his Mama Bear. That’ll teach ‘em.

Wait, does that make him a bad person? Is he going on the naughty list?

No, he’s nice. He always listens to Mama Bear. He never asks Mama Bear for more cookies when Mama Bear says he’s had enough.

He only asks Daddy.

Speaking of cookies.

He tugs at Daddy’s hair again after Aunt Vicky leaves. “Can I have a cookie?”

-

It has been more than a week—maybe even more—and Daddy _still_ won’t let him see Mama Bear. He tries to ‘study’, but he doesn’t even know what he’s doing! He doesn’t even know what ‘study’ is! How is he supposed to be a doctor?

_How is he supposed to see Mama Bear?_

Daddy always says that Mama Bear is sleeping, but even he himself knows that people don’t sleep _that_ long! Why does Daddy get to see Mama Bear? Why does Uncle Pete get to see Mama Bear? Why does Aunt Vicky get to see Mama Bear? Why can’t he see Mama Bear?

“No!” He screams when Daddy manages to catch him in the act when he tried to sneak into their room that night. “I want Mama Bear!”

“David, please quiet down.” Daddy whispers, but he doesn’t care and keeps on screaming. He wants Mama Bear! He doesn’t care if everyone can hear him!

_“Mama Bear!”_

“David.” Daddy shushes him. “David, he needs to rest. You can’t disturb him.”

He bursts into tears when Daddy brings him back to his room and away from Mama Bear. This isn’t fair! Why won’t Daddy let him see Mama Bear? Daddy gets to see Mama Bear every day! Daddy gets to sleep next to Mama Bear every night! So why can’t he?

Daddy hushes softly and rubs his back. “You can see him soon, I promise. Just not now, okay?”

He shakes his head and screams again. _“Daddy’s a meanie!”_

“David, Daddy’s really sorry—”

“No!”

He’s set down inside his crib, and he immediately gets up while Daddy is distracted pulling the blanket. Before he can climb out, Daddy pulls him back inside and tucks him in.

“Daddy!” He protests in anger as he wriggles to get out of the blanket Daddy wrapped him around with. “Daddy, I wanna see Mama Bear!”

“It’s time to sleep, David. I promise you can see him soon.”

He lets out another shrill cry as more tears flow down. _“I hate Daddy!”_

“I’m sorry, Little Bear.” Daddy wipes away the tears on his face with his thumb and leans down to kiss him on the forehead. “I love you.”

He hates Daddy. Daddy’s mean for taking Mama Bear away from him! He never wants to see Daddy again!

After Daddy leaves, he feels a soft item pressed against his hand, and he cranes his neck to see the baby standing and holding on tight to the bars of the crib as he pushes Mr Paddyton into his open hand. His crying stops, turning into small hiccups, and he looks down at Mr Paddyton, stuck between two bars as both of its hands are held by him and the baby.

He sniffles and lifts his gaze to the baby, who smiles at him.

_“There.”_

-

The smell of pancakes wakes him up that morning. He shoves his blanket to the side in haste, getting one of his legs tangled up in the mean time, and climbs out before jumping down to the floor and running to the kitchen.

Pancakes! Is Uncle Pete making pancakes again? Is Uncle Pete going to make the same boring shape again?

His running feet comes to a halt when he sees the familiar built from behind. Oh.

Daddy turns around and smiles. “Hey, Little Bear. You’re up early. I’m making your favourite chocolate pancakes. And they’re all in the shape of clouds.”

He tries to fight off the urge to squeal and puffs his cheeks to look like he’s angry. He even crosses his arms as an added effect.

“Oh, come on. Are you still mad at me?”

He purses his lips and turns his head to the other side. Doesn’t Daddy get it? He doesn’t want to see Daddy unless Daddy lets him see Mama Bear!

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to say anything to Daddy because Uncle Pete enters the kitchen right at that moment. “Dude, you look terrible. Have you showered?”

“Yeah.” Daddy looks down at his shirt and sniffs it. “Why? Do I look like I haven’t?”

“You look like a hobo. Dude, shave? Have you heard of it? And have you tried washing your hair? I didn’t spend my money at Gee’s for your hair to end up like overgrown weeds.”

Daddy tugs at his own hair, frowning. “It’s not that bad. A little greasy, but I think it looks fine.”

“Can’t you skip one day and get some sleep?”

“Pete, you know we need money to cover the bills. His health insurance doesn’t cover—” Daddy stops, then shakes his head. “I’m fine. Don't worry about me.”

Uncle Pete lets out an exasperated sigh and rolls his eyes. “I told you a million times before, let _me_ pay the hospital bills. Patrick and David need you _here,_ not _working._ Honestly, you’re just one shift away from being a zombie. You’re spreading yourself too thin by taking _three_ jobs. You always go out early in the morning and get back late at night. You don’t even have weekends off.”

“And I told you a million times before, I can’t let you do that. I appreciate it, but no. And no offense, Pete, but this is _my_ family. I’m not taking any money from my friends.”

“Fine. Then just think of it as a loan. You can pay me back any other time.”

He’s been looking back and forth between Daddy and Uncle Pete during the entire conversation, but he picks up a few words here and there enough to understand what they’re talking about: Daddy’s _extremely_ greasy hair, Mama Bear and him needing Daddy here, something about hospital, and Daddy spreading butter.

That sounds delicious. Toast and butter. _Pancakes_ and butter! No, wait—

_Cookies and butter!_

“Look, Pete, I have no time for this. I have to go.” Daddy turns off the stove and washes his hands in the sink. When Daddy leans down to kiss the crown of his head, he turns his head, going back to sulking. “I’m heading to work now. Be good to Uncle Pete, okay? Eat your breakfast and let Mama Bear rest.”

Fine. He’ll let Mama Bear rest, but he’s not gonna be good to Uncle Pete.

After Daddy leaves, Uncle Pete turns to him. “Your Daddy is stubborn, you know that?”

He nods. But that’s only because he’s still mad at Daddy.

“Pancake.”

“Shower first, kid. Come on.”

-

Even though Uncle Pete lets him eat pancakes in the living room _while_ watching the television, he doesn’t find himself enjoying it much because he’s all alone.

He’s with Batman, but he’s alone.

Uncle Pete is in Mama Bear’s room, and he wants to join Uncle Pete in there, but then he remembers Daddy’s words.

He lets out a pitiful whine. This is _so_ unfair. “Uncle Pete!”

When he doesn’t hear anything from Uncle Pete, he lets out a long scream. Honestly, didn’t Uncle Pete hear him?

“I’m coming!”

He closes his mouth when Uncle Pete appears in front of him. “What do you want, Your Majesty?”

He blinks. His what? He shrugs it off and shows Uncle Pete his empty plate. “Empty.”

“I can see that.”

He stares at Uncle Pete, eyebrows furrowing as he pushes his plate towards Uncle Pete. “Empty.”

Uncle Pete looks down at the plate before sighing and taking the plate from him. “I can’t believe I’m a slave for a two year old.”

He giggles as he hops down from the couch, grabbing Batman along, and follows Uncle Pete to the kitchen. As he passes the counter, he notices a pack of cookies laying on top of it.

An imaginary light bulb appears over his head.

He can give Mama Bear cookies and milk so Mama Bear can get better faster! It always works on him, so it _has_ to work for Mama Bear, too!

Just as Uncle Pete dumps the plate into the sink and opens the tap, he tugs at his pants, “Uncle Pete.”

“One demand at a time, kid. I only have two hands.”

“Uncle _Peeeeeete.”_

“God, you’re so impatient.” Uncle Pete sighs and closes the tap before paying his attention to him. “What?”

But first, he needs a plate. A nice plate. Preferably with Mama Bear’s favourite colour. He’s got lots of plate!

Oh, wait. He has one!

He points to where Mama Bear keeps all the plates. “Plate.”

Uncle Pete hands him the plate that he just washed instead. “Here.”

He huffs. He doesn’t want that plate! “No! That!”

This time, Uncle Pete follows where his finger points, and Uncle Pete opens the shelf, taking a random plate out. An elephant. “This?”

“No!” He frowns and hugs Batman closer to his chest. Mama Bear’s favourite colour is the colour of the tiger, so he needs the _tiger_ plate so Mama Bear will be happy when he sees it.

Uncle Pete sighs and places the plate back in the shelf. “It’s just a plate. All of them are the same. Just take it.”

“No!” He shouts again. Why doesn’t Uncle Pete get it? He needs the tiger plate! Why is Uncle Pete back to being stupid again? “ _That_ plate!”

“It’s the same plate.”

“No!”

“Fine. Which plate then?”

“That one.” He points to the tiger plate—the one with an awesome and cute tiger’s face on it that Uncle Kevin got him—that somehow Uncle Pete seems to not notice. It’s next to the elephant! He can see it from where he’s standing because tiger’s colour is _super_ bright! Like the sun!

Uncle Pete turns and picks up a different plate. “This rabbit one?”

“No!” He screams, frustrated. Is Uncle Pete blind too? “That one! Tiger!”

“Well, why didn't you just say so in the beginning?” Uncle Pete looks back inside the shelf and pulls out the tiger plate.

Yes! Uncle Pete's not blind! A little stupid, but not blind!

After Uncle Pete hands him the plate, he points to the cookies. “Cookie.”

Uncle Pete frowns. “Didn’t you just have your breakfast?”

But it’s not for him! It’s for Mama Bear! “Cookie!”

“You just had your breakfast.”

He opens his mouth, ready to scream again, but Uncle Pete already tears open the pack and gives one to him. He beams and places the cookie in the middle of the plate. “More.”

Uncle Pete puts another one on the plate.

Is two enough? No.

“More.”

Another cookie.

Three? Not enough. Mama Bear needs a lot so he can become healthy again. And he also wants two.

“More. More. More.”

“You know, saying ‘more’ three times does not mean I'm going to give you three more cookies.”

He takes a deep breath—

“ _Fine._ One cookie. That's all. I'm not giving you anymore until dinner.” Uncle Pete gives him one last cookie before he ties back the pack. “You can't just scream whenever—”

“Milk.” He cuts Uncle Pete off. A smile spreads on his face when Uncle Pete sighs. He just loves demanding Uncle Pete for everything. Uncle Pete's a good uncle.

He waits patiently while Uncle Pete prepares milk for him. Uncle Pete’s also good at preparing milk. He makes it not too hot— unlike how Uncle Joe makes it. Uncle Joe makes it too hot and too tasteless.

“Here you go, kid.”

He pulls Batman to his chest as he tries to balance the plate of cookies and his bottle of milk in both of his hands.

“Do you need any help?”

“No.” He refuses. He can do this by himself. He’s a big boy! He’s Daddy’s Little Bear! He can do anything!

Wait, no, he’s still mad at Daddy. But he still can do anything! Mama Bear says so!

“You sure?”

He nods with determination set firmly in his tiny chest. He can do this!

With that, he begins to take slow strides towards Mama Bear’s room, making sure that the cookies don't fall off. Uncle Pete keeps offering his help, but he's not gonna take it.

If Daddy can do everything on his own, then he can, too!

Then again, he doesn't remember Mama Bear’s room being this far.

Even though Batman almost slips out of his hold and the cookies almost topple from the plate, he manages to keep them in place by the time he enters Mama Bear’s room.

“David, you can't be in here.”

Ignoring Uncle Pete, he stands on his toes and places the plate of cookies on the nightstand, then the milk. Perfect. Mama Bear will surely be happy again when he sees them when he wakes up!

He turns to look at Mama Bear, his small heart nearly bursting with happiness when Mama Bear is hugging Doctor Phin, but the smile on his face slowly drops as he stares at Mama Bear’s sleeping face.

Mama Bear… doesn’t look okay. Mama Bear doesn’t look like Mama Bear. Mama Bear is always happy, but this Mama Bear looks… not happy.

Uncle Pete kneels down beside him, and he clutches Batman tighter. “Is Mama Bear okay?”

Uncle Pete sighs and ruffles his hair gently. “I don’t know, kid. But as long as he has you and your Daddy, he will be.

“Come on. Let’s leave your Mama Bear alone. He needs to rest.”

Reluctant about leaving Mama Bear alone, he nods anyway. Daddy also says the same thing. He looks down at Batman in his arms, then back up at Mama Bear.

Batman can keep Mama Bear safe while he’s gone.

“David, don’t.” Uncle Pete lifts him up before he can run any further.

He whines and struggles from Uncle Pete’s hold. Why does Uncle Pete keep messing with his plans? “Mama Bear—”

“Dav—”

He chomps down on Uncle Pete’s hand hard enough that Uncle Pete hisses in pain and wiggles free when Uncle Pete’s grip loosens. Then, he sprints towards Mama Bear before carefully placing Batman beside him.

There. Mama Bear is safe now.

Satisfied, he pecks Mama Bear softly—just like how Mama Bear always does to him—and lets himself be pulled away by Uncle Pete.

  
“Love you, Mama Bear.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I portrayed a toddler well. They probably can't speak fluently yet, but with other kids their age and those who are close to them, I think they'd understand perfectly? Does that make sense?
> 
> Anyway :) I think you probably know what happened in the story, and I kinda want to do a take of something serious from a kid's point of view.
> 
> It broke my heart a little, not gonna lie.


End file.
